


Extended Post-Credits Scene

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Movie, i mean seriously, valentine didn't even double check
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:33:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3798604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let's be serious: Certain persons did not die, and there are totally good reasons why not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extended Post-Credits Scene

**Author's Note:**

  * For [templemarker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/templemarker/gifts).



> For my darling templemarker, who both introduced me to the movie and also betaed this 112% hurt/comfort. You are my very favorite whore eyes.

Harry knows he'll be shot as soon as he steps out of the church. Valentine is a brilliant man with horrible ideas, and Harry is a liability. Harry manages a triple blink just before Valentine fires and feels the buzz of the low-grade force field he’s called up as it begins to cover his head.

The bullet still hits Harry, and Harry still falls down, but he is only mostly unconscious and not dead. He does not move until Valentine and Gazelle leave. They take longer than he expected, and he finds himself graying into unconsciousness while trying to speak and send word he is injured but not dead.

*

When Harry wakes up, he is in hospital, and it is three days later. The news is on, though the television is muted, and Harry can't read the scroll at the bottom of the screen that is surely giving death and injury counts. He tries to sit up and his entire body hurts.

“Four cracked ribs, a stab wound to your shoulder, a mild concussion, and a fucking gunshot wound to your _head_ ,” Eggsy says as he leans into view. He holds out a glass of water with a straw in it and positions it so Harry can drink. “Valentine set off his device full-scale, but Merlin and Roxy and me stopped him before it got as bad as it might have done.”

Harry finishes drinking and realizes, when Eggsy turns to put down the glass, that there are two pairs of glasses on the table by the bed. “You’re a Kingsman,” Harry says, and he feels himself smile.

“Yeah,” Eggsy replies. “I’m Galahad for now.”

“But I’m…” is as far as Harry gets before he falls asleep again.

When he wakes up again, it’s dark and quiet. The television is off, but there’s a soft glow to his left, and Harry turns his head and sees Eggsy working on a tablet. “Water?” Harry asks.

Eggsy looks up, nods, and gets the glass, helping Harry drink like before.

“Did you say you were Galahad?” Harry asks once he’s had his fill.

“Yeah,” Eggsy says. “Roxy’s Lancelot, and Merlin’s still Merlin.”

“So, where does that leave me?” Harry asks, amused.

“As Arthur because Percival and Merlin both refuse to take it,” Eggsy says. He lowers the bar on Harry’s bed and climbs up so he’s sitting by Harry’s knees. “The other Arthur’s dead. He tried to poison me—”

“He tried to poison you?” Harry asks, alarmed. “When?”

“I watched you fight in that church, and I thought you was dead, so I went to the shop because I didn’t know where else to go. Arthur was there with that poncey brandy you drink when someone kicks off, and he invited me to join him. Didn’t think that felt right given what a fuck he’d been about me not being posh enough to be one of you, so I distracted him and switched glasses when he weren’t looking.”

“Arthur was an elitist, but—”

“Valentine got to him. He had the scar and everything.” Eggsy taps his fingers on his knees, then reaches out and takes Harry’s hand. “Thought you was dead,” he says.

“The glasses—” Harry breaks off in a huge, undignified yawn. “Pardon me,” he says.

Eggsy chuckles. “Not very gentlemanly.”

“Not in the least.”

Eggsy squeezes his hand. “Get back to sleep. You can tell me how you did it later.”

“I will,” Harry promises. He closes his eyes and feels Eggsy stroke a thumb over his knuckles a few times before he’s asleep again.

*

“—socio-political quagmire we’re currently hip deep in, you can understand why I’ve been asked to make this cross-governmental request of you.”

Harry wakes up again, and it’s early afternoon. Eggsy is standing by the window, glasses on, and his mobile against his ear as he talks to someone. There is a nurse to Harry’s right. She’s taking his pulse, and she smiles when she sees he’s awake.

“I’m Nurse Clara,” and her heavy Southern drawl tells Harry he’s still in Kentucky. “And it’s nice to see you awake, Mr. Knight.”

“Mr. Knight?” Harry says, and he catches a quick, wicked glance from Eggsy that makes him shake his head. “Pardon my confusion,” he says to the nurse. “It’s just so rare one hears one’s own name said in such a lovely accent.”

Nurse Clara gives him an amused look. “I’m sure,” she says drily. She finishes checking his pulse and starts writing down the stats from the machines he’s hooked up to. There’s a heart monitor, a blood pressure machine, and two IVs. “We can try some toast and juice for a start,” Nurse Clara says. “You keep that down, the doctor will probably let you off the liquid diet for dinner.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Harry says. He looks over as Eggsy approaches from the other side. Eggsy touches the edge of his glasses, and Harry rolls his eyes, knowing without asking that Merlin’s watching from the other side.

Nurse Clara leaves the room, and Eggsy sits on the bed by Harry’s knees again. “Merlin says you look like shite.”

“I’d wager he’s been up three days, so perhaps he shouldn’t judge.”

Eggsy grins and takes off his glasses. “Says it’s been two and a half and he still looks better.”

“I suppose we’ll find out when I get back home,” Harry says. “Which will hopefully be soon.”

“Couple of days at least. I’m your escort, and I’ve got to pop off to DC on behalf of MI-6 for a briefing.”

“We’re coordinating with MI-6?”

“Only the top-levels. Still the extra-secret service,” Eggsy says with a grin. “Oh, by the way, you’re Harry Knight, documentary filmmaker. You were here in Kentucky to do a bit on that crazy ass racist church and got caught in that fight. You got stabbed early on and hid until it was over, and you don’t know who shot you. Merlin’s got the rest of the details if you want them."

“Are you leaving right this second?” Harry asks.

“Yeah. I’m expected in DC by dinner time, and they’re already gassing the jet.” Eggsy pulls a face. “That’s a right weird sentence to say out loud.”

Harry chuckles. “It suits you,” he says. “You’re a Kingsman.”

Eggsy ducks his head. “Yeah. Suppose. I mean, Merlin and Lancelot both don’t care that I didn’t shoot JB, and Percival says he’s always felt it was a fuck of a thing to do, but I technically didn’t pass, you know?”

The conversation when Harry first woke up comes back to him. _I’m Galahad for now._ He hadn’t registered the conditional Eggsy had put on it. “You helped save the world, Eggsy. I’d say that more than makes up for not wanting to shoot JB. Which, in and of itself, is not the worst instinct a Kingsman can have. Valuing the lives of innocents is an important part of what we do.” Harry reaches out and touches Eggsy’s hand. Eggsy turns his hand over so they’re palm-to-palm. “You’re not Galahad _for now_ ; you’re Galahad for as long as you choose to be with us.”

Eggsy doesn’t say anything for a moment. He looks at their hands on the bed. “Merlin got me listed as your son. Kentucky don’t have civil partnership visitations, and they definitely don’t have it round here for guys like us. So, I’m not gonna snog on you for saying that, but it’s not because I don’t want to.”

Harry smiles and squeezes Eggsy’s hand. “I look forward to getting home more than ever, now.”

Eggsy stands and straightens his suit, adjusting his cuffs just so. He slips his glasses into his breast pocket. “Back by morning. Don’t wait up,” he says and then pecks Harry on the cheek.

“Do us proud,” Harry replies, and Eggsy winks at him as he leaves the room.

Harry leans back against the pillow and reaches for his own glasses. There’s a small chip on the left lens frame, and he rubs his thumb over it before putting the glasses on and tapping twice on the right ear piece to activate them.

“You look like shite,” Merlin greets him. In the heads-up display, he looks haggard but determined.

“Let’s not compare who looks worse right now,” Harry says. “Catch me up.”

“World’s gone to hell, but we’re pulling her back hard as we can,” Merlin replies.

Harry clicks on the television to give an excuse for wearing his glasses and lets Merlin give him a detailed rundown of operations. The body count is horrific. At least three million dead including a long list of world leaders and other power holders. Injuries are at least ten million. Hospitals in urban areas around the world are overrun; banks are on the verge of utter collapse, the stocks and commodities markets have plummeted, and there are riots nearly everywhere.

"Did anyone make it out unscathed?" Harry asks.

"McMurdo down in Antarctica, the space station, and any paranoid luddite who lives in the woods and pisses in a latrine. What we are seeing, Arthur, is the greatest downside to globalization ever showcased."

"Merlin, if you ever call me Arthur to my face again, I will gut you."

Merlin grins, and it makes Harry smile as well. "You can't break with tradition, _Arthur_. What would happen to the Kingsmen if you did?"

"I think we've proven quite well the whole kit will be better off," Harry replies. He takes a deep breath to fortify himself and asks the question he's been dreading. "How many of ours?"

"Thirteen," Merlin replies, and he's utterly serious again. "Three had their heads blown up when I triggered the reaction, so it looks like Arthur had some playmates. The other ten were caught in the same state you were at the church except with a much higher number of combatants to fight off."

 

Harry presses his hand very carefully to the large bandage on his head that covers his gunshot wound. He feels exhausted again all at once. "I'm sorry you had to push the kill switch. No man seeking to right the world should be put in such a position."

"Everyone who had that chip put in their heads had agreed to destroy the bulk of humanity," Merlin says,"I've no guilt for my decision."

"Good," Harry says. "I need to sleep, Merlin. I wish you could as well."

"I'll sleep when the work's done," Merlin replies, and he signs off with a sharp little salute that makes Harry shake his head as he removes his glasses.

He naps until an orderly brings him his juice and toast, which he eats and drinks slowly. He doesn't feel nauseated or otherwise uncomfortable and tells Nurse Clara so when she comes in. 

"Good," she says. She changes out his painkiller IV and checks his pulse again. "The doctor will make it over. We're just full up at the moment."

"I can imagine," Harry says, glancing at the television. "Did you lose anyone?"

"A sister and two cousins," Nurse Clara says, her voice cracking a little. "Got lucky, really. Everyone else was up at the cabin, and no one takes their cell phones up there."

"Yourself included?"

 

"Yes. I came back down quick as I could once we heard the news. I knew I'd be needed." For a moment, there is deep pain in her eyes, but then she blinks and it is gone. 

"Nurses have always given me more comfort than doctors," Harry says quietly. "I am very glad you could be here."

Nurse Carla smiles, squeezes his arm, and leaves the room. Harry lets himself fall back asleep.

The doctor comes in just after the dinner cart rattles by Harry's room without stopping. The patch on his coat says his name is Dr. Davenport. He has a two-day growth of beard and bags under his eyes, but his shoulders and jaw are set in determination, and Harry decides he likes him before he even says a word.

"Mr. Knight, I'm Dr. Davenport. Sorry I didn't make it in here earlier today. It's…"

"A shit show," Harry says.

Dr. Davenport smiles tiredly. "To put it mildly." He looks down at Harry's chart, flipping pages and murmuring to himself. "Your vitals are good," he says. "Says here you took some food and didn't get sick."

"It didn't even upset my stomach."

"That's good. I want you mostly on the liquid diet one more day to be sure, but we can get a few more solids into you."

"I'd appreciate it."

Dr. Davenport flips another page and frowns. "Has anyone changed your dressings today?"

"Not unless they did so while I was sleeping," Harry says. 

Dr. Davenport glances towards the hallway, then at the clock, then sighs. "I'm sorry. You should have had them changed earlier. It's been...a shit show."

"I think I read somewhere that dressing changes can be delayed if the dressing itself isn't soaked through," Harry says, wanting to give this exhausted, overworked man some type of relief. "I haven't seen myself in a mirror, but I've touched my head a few times, and it doesn't feel soaked."

"No, it's looking fine," Dr. Davenport says. His eyes unfocus for a moment, then refocus again. He gives Harry a shrewd look, drops into the chair next to the bed, and says, "You seem the type of man I don't need to bullshit, Mr. Knight."

"I strive to be exactly that type of man," Harry says.

"A third of my staff died in this thing. The rest are working triples at the least. The Red Cross and National Guard are up to the gills with work. We've got plenty of medicine and dressings and food, but not nearly enough people to take care of it all."

"I am a patient man," Harry says. "I don't mind waiting. My son will be back by morning and has advanced first aid training. I'm certain he can redress my wounds as needed if you give him a schedule."

Dr. Davenport slumps forward and rubs at his forehead. "You have a gunshot wound held together by eight stitches, a stab wound held together by twelve, four cracked ribs, a mild concussion, bruises everywhere, a set of X-rays that make me question exactly what type of documentary films you make, and a catheter jammed into your urethra."

"It will be unpleasant when you begin to wean me off the pain medication." 

"Yeah." Dr. Davenport stands and stretches. "I don't want to take the offer of your son's help, but I can't turn it down."

"I understand," Harry says. "But perhaps before he returns, we can take out the catheter?"

"I'll afraid not. You'll need to eat solid food and show healthy urination before we can do that."

"Shit," Harry says, and Dr. Davenport smiles tiredly again. "Any idea when I can expect to get out of the hospital?"

"A few days more. I can't be certain you'll get adequate medical care if something goes wrong, so I want to keep you around for some extra time to be certain you'll be healthy when you leave."

"I understand," Harry says. 

"I need to go see my other patients. Anything you need before I go?"

Harry looks around the room. "A book would be lovely," he says. "I don't think I can stomach the news any longer today."

"I'll see if I can find someone to bring you something," Dr. Davenport says. He gives Harry a nod and leaves the room.

Harry leans back against the pillows and reaches for his glasses. He puts them on and taps the left earpiece once. "Galahad," he says, and a moment later, he's in Eggsy's feed from Eggsy's point of view. 

There's a pad of paper in front of Eggsy, and Harry smiles when Eggsy writes HI in block letters, pauses for a moment, then adds GH LEVEL CONCERNS.

"Well done," Harry murmurs, and Eggsy draws a tiny smiley face in the margin of the paper. "I just want to eavesdrop," Harry says. "Don't mind me."

OK Eggsy writes, and then LAHOMA CITY.

Harry smiles at the joke as Eggsy puts his attention back on the briefing. There's no good news in it, just more statistics about loss of life, property, and the state of the world economic structure. There are many, many flowcharts to show how everyone can help everyone else, and Harry wonders exactly how much help will come out of this meeting.

It takes three hours, and by the end, Eggsy is doodling gun schematics and dicks and no longer taking notes. When everyone is dismissed, he hangs back and makes certain to get face shots of everyone who attended.

"Well done," Harry murmurs.

"Thanks," Eggys replies. "Be back on the jet in ten. Get some rest. I'll wake you up when I get back."

"Do that," Harry says. 

"Night, Harry."

"Goodnight, Eggsy."

Harry takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes, and sleeps.

It's deep into the night when he wakes up again, and Eggsy is leaning over the side of the bed, one hand on Harry's shoulder and rubbing lightly. "Did you have to sneak in?" Harry asks.

"Nah. Nurse Clara saw me, handed me some bandages and goo and some books and said I'm changing your dressings, so I get to come and go as I please."

"Nice of her to remember the books," Harry says as he tries to sit up. It hurts from the top of his head to the middle of his chest. He groans and slumps, and Eggsy catches him before he can fall over. 

"Yeah, you're pretty busted up."

"I knew that, but I hadn't felt it yet." Harry replies.

"You smell like a skip," Eggsy tells him. "Don't think they cleaned you up past wiping down your wounds when you got here."

"I can't shower. I've got a catheter in." Harry watches Eggsy glance at the catheter bag, the two IVs, and then towards the bathroom. "I would love a shave and a chance to see the damage myself."

"That settles that," Eggsy says. "Hold still." He retrieves a plastic tub from next to the bed and lifts the catheter bag into it, then maneuvers the IV stand so it's next to Harry's hand. "Good thing they took the heart rate monitor off you. Don't think we could like drag it along."

Harry hums in agreement. He takes Eggsy's hands when Eggsy holds them out and grunts from the effort as he stands on his own two feet.

"Careful," Eggsy says. "I can patch up what's been fixed, but I ain't in a mood to restitch anything."

"I'll do my best," Harry replies. He loosens his grip on Eggsy's hands to test his balance and finds that he's a bit dizzy and achy but otherwise functional. He can feel a dull throb in his back and throughout his chest, and there's a brief flare of pain on his head, but it fades quickly.

"Easy does it," Eggsy says. He slides the IV stand so Harry can grasp it in his hand and picks up the tub with the bag. He puts an arm around Harry's waist, and they shuffle to the bathroom one careful step at a time. 

By the time he's in the bathroom, Harry is grateful to sit down on the stool in the corner. His whole body radiates exhaustion, and he leans back against the wall with his eyes closed while Eggsy places his IV stand and the tub down next to him.

"Be back," Eggsy says quietly. 

Harry doesn't open his eyes to watch him go, just tracks him by sound. He does open his eyes when Eggsy comes back into the room with a handful of plastic-covered gauze, a tube of antibiotic cream, and a handful of individually wrapped medical cotton buds. There's a roll of white sellotape dangling from his pinky, small can of shaving cream tucked under his chin, and a razor between his teeth. "You could have made two trips or used your pockets."

Eggsy grins, winks, and spits the razor into the sink. "They're already full," he says. He puts down the rest of his supplies and reaches into his trouser pockets. He pulls his glasses from one pocket and Harry's from the other. "You can't see your own back," Eggsy says as he opens Harry's frames to hand them to him. He pauses suddenly and looks down, his thumb catching on the same dented place Harry's fingers had caught earlier. Harry watches all the fun drain from him.

"Eggsy," he says, steady and soft. "Eggsy."

Eggsy squeezes his eyes shut. "Goddamnit, Harry. I thought you was dead."

"I know," Harry says. He reaches out, meaning to take his glasses, but Eggsy takes his hand instead, drops to his knees, and kisses Harry hard on the knuckles. 

"Fuck," Eggsy whispers, and Harry can see he's fighting not to cry.

"Come here," Harry says, and he pulls Eggsy towards him with their joined hands. Eggsy slumps against him, face pressed against Harry's thigh, and shudders in huge breaths that he holds too long before releasing. Harry doesn't correct him, just rubs his hand over Eggsy's hair and waits him out.

"That you was fucking dead," Eggsy mutters after a long silence. He looks up at Harry, and there are tears streaking his face. He presses his cheek against Harry's leg. "How the fuck," he says.

"Merlin had me testing some modifications to our spectacles. He added a low-energy force field to them that is activated upon looking into the heads-up display and blinking three times. He wasn't sure if it worked, and I imagine the entire field test slipped his mind during the crisis."

"You fucking telling me your fucking specs kept you from taking it right through the head?"

"Yes," Harry says, and the way Eggsy's face screws up into a disbelieving look makes Harry smile. "I was supposed to press on the face of my watch to send word I was alive if not entirely well, but Valentine and Gazelle hovered for a few seconds, and I found myself without the energy."

"Merlin figures they had to press your watch against your wrist to get the band undone, and that's what triggered the alert. None of us saw it because Merlin had us go blackout to get the job done."

"It was the correct thing to do," Harry says, "though I am sorry you all had to grieve me."

Eggsy looks serious, then breaks into a soft laugh. "I fucked a princess," he says. "After we stopped Valentine, I went to her cell and fucked her."

"Eggsy!"

"What?! I thought you were dead, and she offered!"

Harry shakes his head at the whole idea. "That's how you grieve me? By having a dalliance?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, she was game, and she was pretty, and seems like if you save the world, you get to have a shag, yeah?"

"I look forward to finding out when I'm well," Harry says, and Eggsy turns his face and presses a kiss to the inside of Harry's wrist.

"She weren't you," he says. 

"It's okay, Eggsy. I'm glad you could find some comfort in the mess of everything." Harry touches Eggsy's cheek, and Eggsy stands up, leans over, and presses a kiss to the side of Harry's mouth.

"You ain't brushed your teeth in four days," Eggsy says, and Harry chuckles.

"Well, find me a toothbrush, and we'll start the cleaning there."

Eggsy finds a toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste in the medicine cabinet. He prepares the brush for Harry and hands it to him. He goes back into the room and comes back with a plastic glass, which he fills from the sink and also hands to Harry. "Spit out in the shower," Eggsy says. "I'm gonna fill the sink to get you scrubbed up."

Harry nods his assent and finishes brushing his teeth. By the time he's done, his mouth feels brand new, and Eggsy has two cloths soaking in the gathered water. "I want to see my injuries," he says.

"Yeah," Eggsy replies. He puts on his glasses as he walks behind Harry and undoes the top of his hospital gown. Harry puts on his own glasses and sets them up to piggyback on Eggsy's feed again. "Got it?" Eggsy asks.

"Yes," Harry says. His back has multiple bruises running from his neck all the way down. There's a white patch of gauze just a few inches from his spine, and Harry can see blood on it, though not much. He watches Eggsy lift the cloth, and a moment later, feels the warmth of it touch his neck. 

"Thought you was kidding about the bulletproof suits," Eggsy says quietly. "Glad you wasn't."

Harry counts seven bullet impact marks on his back. "So am I." 

Eggsy washes his back slowly, taking care on the bruises, and switching cloths before one gets too cold. Once he's taken care of everything outside of the gauze, he soaks a cloth, wrings it out, and folds it double before pressing it against the back of Harry's neck.

"That feels very nice," Harry says. 

"That's good, because I don't think this will," Eggsy replies as he pulls the tape off the edge of the gauze. Harry winces as he watches and feels Eggsy take the gauze off his stitches. The stitches themselves are very neat, but Harry can see blood and other fluid around the edges.

"How does it look in color?"

"No redness and no heat. Just doing that healing thing where it leaks." Eggsy takes the cloth from the back of Harry's neck and dabs at the stitches with a corner of it. He tosses the cloth to the side when he's done and applies the antibiotic cream, then fresh gauze and tape. He hesitates for a moment, and Harry is disconcerted by watching through Eggsy's eyes as he comes up short, pauses, and then leans down and kisses just next to the gauze.

"Eggsy," Harry murmurs, taking off his glasses. He hums approval when Eggsy trails his mouth up and kisses the back of his neck. It's not a sexual kiss but an affirming one. Harry leans into it the best he can and smiles when Eggsy kisses behind his ear. 

"Gonna do your head next, long as the bandages are out," Eggsy says. "Then I'll get the rest of you cleaned off and get you shaved."

"Okay," Harry agrees. "Is there a hand mirror? I'd like to see the head wound without recording it."

Eggsy checks the small linen cupboard next to the shower and finds out. He hands it to Harry. "You're not gonna like this bit," he says.

Harry holds up the mirror to get a look at himself. "Oh, dear." The entire left side of his head has been shaved, the bandage covering him from the top of his forehead all the way to the middle of the back of his skull. "There is no way to even that out."

"Nope," Eggsy agrees, and he grins at Harry in the mirror as he begins to work the bandage free. "There's a barber shop in town. We can stop on the way out and get you a proper buzz cut."

"There is nothing proper about a buzz cut," Harry says, and Eggsy chuckles as he gets the tape loose and pulls the bandage away in one piece. "Shit," Harry says when he sees the wound. It's as neatly stitched as the knife wound in his back, but it runs nearly the length of the bandage, and he has a hard realization of how close he came to actually being dead.

"Deep graze," Eggsy says evenly. "Doctor said your skull was chipped in a couple places, but there's no brain damage besides the concussion, and the doc's not even sure that were from the bullet."

Harry puts the mirror facedown on his knee and closes his eyes. "How many people did I kill?" he asks.

"Harry--"

"Please, Eggsy. I just need to know."

"I don't know, actually. I didn't count, and I ain't rewatched the footage." Eggsy runs his fingers through Harry's hair, whether to guarantee he has a clear space to tape the new gauze or to soothe Harry, Harry doesn't know. "And it don't matter. You'd have stopped yourself if you could, same as everyone else. Hell, Mum nearly meat cleavered Lizzie before we stopped everything."

"Your mother made it through, then?"

"Yeah, she and Lizzie both. And Dean, of course. But they always say cockroaches survive the end of the world, yeah?"

Harry reaches out when Eggsy walks around him to get a new cloth. Eggsy stops and looks at him, letting Harry hold him lightly by the wrist but not offering his own touch in return. "Are they safe?" he asks. 

Eggsy looks pained and swallows hard. "Yeah, they're okay. Merlin's got one of ours watching Dean at all times. He raises a hand near her, it ain't gonna be there when he lowers it down. I get reports every four hours. So far, he's only yelling at her some and doing his usual posturing."

"We have safehouses--"

"They're all full," Eggsy interrupts. "Same as the hotels and the shelters and the motels and the alleys, even. I don't want her near him, but there ain't no place for her to go until things have settled."

"My home is--"

"Housing seven agents," Eggsy says. "Maybe eight, now. And they're not all Kingsman."

Harry sighs. "Okay," he says. "I wish there was more we could do."

"Thanks." Eggsy pulls away slowly, checks the cloths in the sink, and tosses them towards the other. "They're all cold," he says. "Gonna run fresh water."

"Thank you," Harry says. He can see the tension in Eggsy's shoulders through his dress shirt, and he wishes he could stand and walk over to him, fold himself over and around him, and prop him up. "And JB?" he asks. "I assume he made it through, being a Kingsman dog and all."

"Yeah, he did all right." There's a small smile on Eggsy's face. "Forgot to even tell Mum he was with me at the flat before I bolted to pound Dean's face in for hitting her, so she didn't go after him. Roxy went to the flat and got him for me. He's staying with her and Peggy the Poodle for now."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Eggsy runs fresh water and pulls a cloth and two hand towels out of the linen cupboard. "Merlin says I get a house once everything calms down."

"Yes," Harry says. 

"Says I can have one just down the street from you if I want."

"Two doors over, if memory serves."

"Yeah." Eggsy wrings out the cloth and walks over. He tilts back Harry's head and washes his face, then runs the cloth up into his hair. "Figure that'd be more than safe enough for Mum and Lizzie."

"Absolutely," Harry says. "Merlin's security system is beyond top-level."

Eggsy finishes running the cloth through Harry's hair and tosses it in the corner with the rest. He tugs carefully at Harry's hospital gown, threading the IV bags through the armholes so he can remove the gown completely. He retrieves one of the hand towels and presses it full length against Harry's chest. 

Harry sighs in pleasure as the warmth seeps into him. "You are very good at this," he says.

"Well, advanced first aid training, you know," Eggsy replies. He runs the hand towel up and down Harry's chest and over and under his arms, careful of his IVs. He goes back to the sink for the other hand towel and comes back and washes Harry's legs and feet, then helps him stand to wash his groin and backside.

"I feel much better," Harry says when Eggsy helps him sit again and put his hospital gown back on him.

"And there's still the shave to go," Eggsy says, running his thumb over the stubble on Harry's cheek. 

"How many hours have you been up?" Harry asks.

"Not enough," Eggsy replies.

Harry snorts. "Liar."

Eggys holds out his hands so Harry can see them. "They're steady. I ain't gonna slice your throat or nothing."

"You should rest," Harry says. "My shave can wait another day."

Eggsy shakes his head, ducks down, and presses a kiss to Harry's mouth. "Don't like you looking so bristly. It ain't right."

Harry holds him close for a moment. "Eggsy," he says quietly.

"Mmm," Eggsy replies, pressing another kiss to Harry's mouth. He steps away, and Harry lets him. "Merlin's system really is best of the best?" he asks when his back is turned.

"Absolutely," Harry says. "No one gets in who you don't want inside."

"Good," Eggsy says, "that's good. Think it'll be good for Mum to have her own place that can be real safe if Dean decides to show up."

"Well, and you'll be there," Harry replies. He lifts his chin when Eggsy comes back over with the last hand towel and sighs in pleasure when Eggsy wraps it around his chin and cheeks. 

"Thought I might be two doors down, actually," Eggsy says so quietly Harry almost misses it.

Harry smiles. "I'd like that very much," he says just as quietly. 

"I mean, that's where Roxy's gonna be." Eggsy laughs when Harry glares and pokes him in the ribs. "Kidding," Eggsy says. "Of course I'm kidding. Roxy don't put out for me."

"With charm like this, I can't imagine why," Harry replies.

"Oi, be nice to the man about to put a razor on your face."

"I'll consider it," Harry says. 

Eggsy sticks out his tongue as he goes to rewet the hand towel. He comes back and presses it against Harry's face again, and then slings the towel over his shoulder and squeezes shaving cream into his hands. "I promise I'll give you a proper soap and lather when we're back home," Eggsy says. 

"I look forward to it," Harry replies. He lets Eggsy move him as needed to apply the shaving cream and closes his eyes when Eggsy starts to work. The razor is cheap, likely taken from the supply closet in the hospital. It tugs more against Harry's skin than he's used to. Eggsy is slow and careful, following each swipe of the razor with a light touch of his thumb, checking for left over stubble or cuts.

"Stay there," Eggsy says when he's finished. He runs the hand towel under the faucet and comes back to wipe down Harry's face. "Everything was closed when I came back, so I couldn't get you aftershave."

"The shave itself was exactly what I needed," Harry says. "A good shave refreshes a man." He yawns and doesn't miss the smirk that slides across Eggsy's face. "Or, it does in most cases."

"Come on. Let's get you tucked back in before the sun comes up. Don't need Nurse Clara finding out exactly what time you got your shave."

Harry chuckles and lets Eggsy help him back to bed. Eggsy's shoulder is soaked through where the towel had lain, and Harry plucks at the wet spot. "Do you have a spare shirt?"

"Nah, but it'll dry quick enough." Eggsy gets the blankets tucked in around Harry, pushes his hair from his forehead, and kisses him. "Get some sleep."

"Will you?" Harry asks.

"Dunno. Gonna check in with Merlin, see what else might need unfucked."

"A cat nap at least," Harry says. 

"We'll see," Eggsy replies. He presses the button to lower Harry's bed and stands over him for a moment. "I am so glad you're not fucking dead," he says.

"Me, too," Harry agrees, and he feels Eggsy press a kiss to his forehead as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.


End file.
